Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Hippie Feet

Sometimes knitting turns out to be more than just knitting.

The lime green socks I started on the Los Angeles trip are complete. So complete, in fact, that I'm wearing them as I type this. Right up to the bit of weaving, I doubted whether I'd truly have the gumption to wear them.

Turns out I do.

These are dear to me, even though they're knit with simple wool (Wildfoote) in a pattern I've already done once before. Buying the yarn was an act of rebellion, an alliance with everything I thought I didn't like and wouldn't wear.

I will turn 36 on January 24th. Often I feel a bit sad to think how I spent my twenties–the years in which one is supposed to be wild and adventurous–strapped into roles and clothes I thought I wanted because almost everyone around me was insisting I should want them.

I was such a buttoned-down little thing. On the outside, polo shirts, topsiders and, I blush to remember, a collection of waistcoats* and bow ties. Inside, a dedicated assimilationist who believed quite firmly that the gay community would be granted its civil rights if we could only act "straight" enough.

I lived in a state of chronic discomfort and couldn't figure out why. Now I know it was because I was being suffocated and strangled by my own choices.

Like it or not, I've turned out to be the very thing I despised at the time: a damn hippie. An eccentric, spinning-wheel-owning, tree-hugging, meditating, earth-loving, war-hating, man-kissing, drum-beating hippie. Who wears loud socks. Or whatever else he wants to.

And bless my soul, it sure feels good.

Peace.

*Upon reflection, I still like the waistcoats. Properly tailored, they look kind of snuggly on a small man. Peter Rabbit-ish.

Hey, embrace that hippyness, its a good thing! The only thing I haven't done out of your list is the drum beating, (and I kind-of have 'cos I've attempted to play the bodhran at times), and green socks are fun to wear and they make you smile :-D

Ah, but do you wear those socks with sandals?! (Ha ha ha) The socks are greatness. I've recently found that I need to push my color choices a bit more often than I currently do. I guess that means more sock yarn! Whee!

As for waistcoats, I'm a BIG fan! Knitting one as we speak...er...as I type.

I wonder why it takes us so long to become who we are. I like to believe the parts that lead up to it aren't wasted time. It's all a learning curve, I guess. And how nice that our birthdays are so close (I'm the 22nd and to be 42)

Congratulations on the upcoming birthday and the realization that you are who you are - sexy calves and all. I adore wearing loud socks because for years I wouldn't. When I reached 50 (my gawd, am I really that old?) some years ago (yes, even older)I decided it was time to put childish conformity behind me. I have been so much happier. I'm glad you found the secret while still so young.

I was glad to see your second thoughts on the waistcoats, since my first thought was "But he must look so dapper in them!" But I guess I'm kinda old-fashioned, 'cause I like "dapper." I think civilization went downhill when people stopped wearing real hats ;-) So all you really need is a waistcoat that goes with those fabulous socks!

My mother, whom I adore, is a Pushmepullyou from Doctor Doolittle, a two-headed llama-like creature with heads going in opposite directions. The heads are identical twins, though, so it’s hard to tell which head one is addressing until she speaks.

One day I was fussing myself out for being a late bloomer (driver’s license at 29, B.A. at 31, etc.), when her Positive Head said, “OK, that may be, but at least you bloom.”

I may have those words etched on my eyelids so I see them every time I blink.

My 30s have been great for realising that I'm increasingly uninhibited by what other people think/expect, and it's very liberating; I've only got 3 months left before I'm 40 and am hoping that I careen through another few decades in the same spirit...

waistcoats can come even in hippie-ish materials. it is never too late to find out what you really want to do. at 46 i am still wondering... and then i realised that elizabeth zimmerman must have been 60 years old when she started her knitting career... so good things happen at all ages. even life-changing things. even brand new careers. and there is a lot of hope in the colour of your socks. hippie.

waistcoats can come even in hippie-ish materials. it is never too late to find out what you really want to do. at 46 i am still wondering... and then i realised that elizabeth zimmerman must have been 60 years old when she started her knitting career... so good things happen at all ages. even life-changing things. even brand new careers. and there is a lot of hope in the colour of your socks. hippie.

And of course, all those attributes are among the reasons we love you!

A nice alternative to Birkenstocks is Crocs, which I've been wearing pretty much constantly for the last year and a half. I turn 50 on the 27th and have decided that life is just way too short to have unhappy feet. And happy feet are a function of comfort PLUS style...

Lucky me - I have such a cool Birthday Twin! You revel in every single second of your birthday, Franklin, and if anyone dares ask your age, you tell them you are NOT thirty-six... you are TWENTY-SIXTEEN! Then stick out your tongue and show them your limey socks. ;-)

Reading this latest post was like looking into a mirror! I too have gone from hopeless conformity to hippie freedom and didn't fully arrive until I was 35. Thanks for sharing--"we read to know we are not alone"!

The green socks are delicious! You've stumbled on one of the big secrets of life, my son - the older one gets, the less one cares what other people think. I thought I was liberated in my 20s, but now I realize I'm much more of a free spirit in my 50s.

and isn't it frightening to look back at the you-you-were and think "who the HELL was that?!" I have recently had a mind-altering epiphany (at age 37): certain people have been trying to stick me in a box with whatever their preferred label for me on it (can't STAND that) but I have also been doing it TO MYSELF. What the hell? I'm still a little in shock.

Even before I started knitting, I loved a good garish sock. Turquoise with yellow smiley faces all over, toe socks, loud argyles. Now that I knit my own, I still want people to SEE them.

I'm not sure I make a good hippie, though. I was born in 72, to non-hippies, but I got plenty of hand-me-downs that made me look like one until I was 10. Also, the only way to keep my hair from going all Macy Gray is to use lots of mousse. I'm afraid the all-natural approach is out.

Happy early birthday.Is it just me or are we Aquarians very pensive these days?I turn 43 on the 31st and am wondering what the heck have I done in the last 20 years. Time for a life change I think!Maybe I need to start knitting bright green socks.

I like your socks muchly. I also think that a life without a wee bit of whimsy is a life wasted. I'm glad you found your inner loud sock wearer and embraced it! Who would ever WANT to knit dull socks?:oD

Thirty-six, hmm? That's pretty young to have learned that much about yourself. Good for you!

Last week I was just saying 'Thanks!' to the friend who 'introduced' me to your blog. Along with hundreds of others, I enjoy your comments, thoughts, cartoons and of course, Dolores. I haven't made up my mind about Victorine yet.

Mmm, lime... Why do I suddenly want a margarita? Lovely socks. And a great antidote to winter weather.

I third hippy-ish material/brocade waistcoats. Maybe crazy-quilt patchwork? As others have said, just wait 'til you hit your 50's. My, it's freeing! Glad you started early. Have fun and Happy Early Birthday!

(Apologies if this comes thru twice, Blogger said it was hiccuping the first try and I didn't listen. [g])

I was born in 1950 and went off to college in 1968 a virginal maiden who had never heard of marijuana (I'm from a small town in south Jersey and we were a bit behind the times).All deficiencies were rectified within days of arriving at college. Bell bottoms, beads and floppy tops were donned. Tree-hugging and early environmental postures were assumed. Guerilla theater for political purposes was performed. However, with all this I must tell you, I have never been a hippie. Never met a hippie. Don't actually believe there ever were such things as hippies.We were freaks.I'm moving up to Maine this year and I want Dolly to come and stay with me.Llinn

Love the socks - that is my favorite color! Kudos to you for figuring out who you really are - some people never do! As someone who's turning 35 next month, I don't feel like I knew who I was until my 30s either.

Waistcoats can be so cool, especially when accompanied with cool socks.

I send my kids to rather conservative schools with strict dress codes and then encourage them to do little acts of rebellion (i.e., no fingernail polish except nude . . . so they have multi-colored toe nails). I don't have a problem with the dress codes but think its okay to put your very own twist on it . . . besides the education they are getting is fabulous!

Hoorah for you! It took me much longer to figure all that out and quit being what was expected from me. The saddest thing I learned was that the people who expect the most 'acceptable' behaviour are either unhappy with themselves or don't really care all that much about you as a person. Know that the more you are true to yourself, the people in your life who value you are doing so for the right reasons.

There must be something magic about mid-30's. I was 35 when I figured out that what I was 'supposed to be' (happily married, content little wife, loving mother, content in my career, looking forward to my future) and what I really was (miserable, doormat, sole financial support of my family with an alcoholic, gambling husband, dreading every day... but I was and still am a pretty good mom) was radically different. So I got divorced, went through a major major changes, and now am happy with who I am. Finally.

So I wasted 15 or so years. It shaped me into who I am today. And I have another 40 or so years to be the whacky, happy, non-conformist that I have grown into being. Or, another wave of change may surge up and I'll ride that wave out onto the next chapeter in the journey.

I love your socks, and stop by almost daily to check in with your latest adventures. You... are awesome.

Those are the awesomest socks in Awesomeville. May they lighten your heart every time you put them on.

(Some socks are just nice cozy warm things for feet, which in no way diminishes their wonderfulness. But some socks... some socks are like toe-hugging woolen blessings. I suspect these are the latter type.)

You know, waistcoats definitely aren't to my own personal taste, but I think that we should all dress basically the way that we want to. Since I work in a profession where the dress code is pretty strict, and very button-down, I really think that we should all wear whatever we want when we're on our own time, and we should really wear whatever color or pattern of handknit socks that turn our fancy.

The nice thing about your 30s is that you actually learn to like yourself; you learn what your strenghts and weaknesses are. There is nothing inherently wrong with topsiders and polos if you like them. Topsiders hurt my feet.

I will turn 36 on January 24th. Often I feel a bit sad to think how I spent my twenties–the years in which one is supposed to be wild and adventurous–strapped into roles and clothes I thought I wanted because almost everyone around me was insisting I should want them.

Just remember, it is never too late to have a happy childhood. Or a "young adulthood", if that's what you want. Great socks.

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